


A Case of Exploration

by Nunewesen



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: First Time, M/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-12
Updated: 2011-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:06:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nunewesen/pseuds/Nunewesen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson notices a surprising change of heart - and Sherlock Holmes finds himself on a very special case...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Case of Exploration

I am not quite sure when my special regard for my friend Sherlock Holmes turned into something more complex – but when I finally realised the change, I was completely taken aback.

It is true, during my time in the army I did have some rather brief physical affairs with men… but I had always rather attributed this to a need for comfort amidst the war inferno and… well, a way to deal with one’s urges in the absence of women.

When I met Holmes, later, and became his fellow lodger at first and eventually his colleague and closest friend, I had certainly not been aware of any form of sensual desire towards him – otherwise I would have (due to my injuries only figuratively speaking) taken to my heels and run as far as I could. A man like my friend, living more or less within the realms of his brain with an inclination to only reluctantly submit to the basic human needs like eating and sleeping – such a man must be the completely wrong object for amorous craving; it would be like crying for the moon.

Later I fell in love with my Mary and became a happily married man. I did not live with Holmes during my marriage, naturally, but we still worked together on many occasions and shared some good times. If anybody had asked me I would have said that I had the best of two worlds.

1891 he “died”… no, of course he did not, as a matter of fact, but after the Reichenbach incident for a period of three years I believed him to be actually dead. I felt I had lost my dearest friend and without Mary I do not know what would have become of me. Then she was taken away from me, too, having lost the fight against cancer, and I was alone.

Still, I managed to go on, day after day, until spring 1894 – when my life was once again turned upside down by the sudden reappearance of Sherlock Holmes in London. The turmoil of feelings – utter joy of having him back side by side with still missing my late wife along with the hurt, anger and disappointment about his concealment of his survival – can be hardly described.

Thus, the reunion with my friend had not run as smoothly as my public account of those events might suggest. But reconciled and reunited, finally, we were, and I must assume that at this time my soul searching regarding my emotions towards the man began.

The first impression I got was that my feelings seemed to have somewhat intensified – which I considered not unusual at all after having been separated from him for so long. Soon, every little sign of regard from his side, every friendly word or sometimes even a compliment shifted me to elation. He also had become more considerate than before (well, a bit more considerate) and seemed to either value me more or was simply more at ease to show me so.

I remember for example a special evening in winter ‘94. As we had just finished a case the night before, we had spent a rather quiet afternoon at home and luckily the fit of boredom Holmes is so often liable to in the aftermath of a conclusion had not yet kicked in. He had slept long and spent a good deal of the day over one of his chemical experiments, while I had been sitting in my armchair by the fireside with one of my favourite novels.

After at least an hour of companionable silence I suddenly heard his voice. “Watson?”

“Hm?”

“I understand you have no further plans for this evening…”

I knew him too well to wonder how he could be so sure about that, so I simply said: “Quite so, nothing beyond this book, a good cigar and maybe a brandy.”

“Ah! And do you think you could change your mind for the sake of a little entertainment?”

I chuckled. “That depends on the entertainment.”

“Well, I was thinking about something that involves music, evening clothes and the Savoy.”

That got my attention. “I usually would be delighted, but to be fair, old boy, I ought to tell you that they are currently doing a comical opera, which is hardly to your taste. Besides that, the reviews so far have been overwhelming, and I do not think there are many tickets left by now.”

Holmes sighed. “Yes, you are right… it had indeed been a bit of an effort to secure those two in the drawer.”

“What?”

“Two tickets, and you have 20 minutes to get ready!”

I could only stare. I knew that he was not exactly fond of comical contemporary opera!

When he saw my bewildered looks he simply added grinning: “My dear Watson, you have kept staring at those bills announcing the new program every single time we passed them, and always with some kind of longing smile. You have been keenly following the reviews in the papers… let’s just say, the deduction has been a simple one. Oh, and just so you know, meanwhile there are only 19 minutes left for you to get ready!”

I sprang to my feet. “Don’t worry, I will need 15, maximum!” I rushed upstairs and rapidly changed into something more formal, still hard put to understand by what kind of strange whim Holmes was driven by… and staring a bit confused at my reflection in the mirror, revealing my somewhat overtly excited face.

  
~~~

  
I did not stop the time, but Holmes later claimed that I had actually made it in 14 minutes and 30 seconds. He himself had been even quicker, undoubtedly because of some previous preparations. Anyway, when I returned downstairs he was already dressed, sitting in his armchair and smoking his pipe.

I could not help but notice that he was looking indeed elegant and quite handsome - and that was not only due to the evening finery but to a certain mixture of posture and charisma. Beyond that, a Sherlock Holmes in good spirits is a quite stunning Sherlock Holmes, and for some reason he must had chosen to… well… behave his best way.

We had a rather lively conversation all the way to the Savoy and arrived there just in time to take our seats. In the few moments before the curtain rose I had the strange feeling of dozens of pairs of eyes looking at us, noticing our presence. I also felt the peculiar sensation of pride, being the one next to him, the one the public acknowledges being his partner and friend. His closest friend. After all… maybe his only friend.

There was not even a woman likely to divert his… regard… from me, and I must admit, in my present state of mind I did welcome that fact. On the other side, of course, it was a bit of a pity that any man should be thus aloof when it comes to the softer emotions. Oh, he was capable of emotions of some sort, this I had understood meanwhile! When I, at the beginning of our acquaintance, had tried to reduce him to a calculating automaton I had done him quite an injustice. He knew about friendship, for instance, there was no doubt about that – and he knew about joy and passion, at least in combination with his work. He also had great fondness for the arts, and it is my understanding that such a man must have a heart somewhere… But anything beyond that was just a ridiculous imagination! He would never venture any emotional entanglement with a woman, and he certainly would never… at that point I had to come out of my reverie with a jerk, because I was approaching rather insecure waters here.

Holmes was looking at me rather curiously, I could see that much, even in the twilight. I avoided to look at him directly, though, and hoped that my slight blush would go unnoticed. Luckily, the end of the overture and the following applause caused a little diversion, so that my friend ceased to peruse me in that dangerously intense fashion. Instead I was gratified with the sight of his hands, while he, along with the rest of the audience, was paying his clapping tribute. Holmes has wonderful hands with long, slender fingers, both sensitive and strong, and I remember being hardly able to follow the events on stage, as I was so much transfixed by this sight.

It was this very evening, when I understood that I was about to get myself into serious trouble.

  
~~~

  
On the whole, I enjoyed this night out, being with him, having him in good spirits and knowing that he had gotten us the tickets mainly as a treat for me. So I tried to push aside the disturbing emotions and concentrated on the things I knew.

But those feelings did not leave me anymore. I ignored them the best I could, tried to bury them deep within my mind, anxious that he who – apart from his incredible perception - knows me better than anyone else, could notice any alteration in my behaviour. After all, what I was contemplating was in the opinion of the general society not only an immoral but also an illegal action, and I found myself completely at a loss when I tried to figure out Holmes’ reaction, should he ever find out about my recent change of heart. All I knew was that losing his friendship and respect was a risk I was simply not able to take.

So we went on. Soon the next case was brought to Holmes attention and the game was afoot once more. This time, I welcomed the fact even doubly, as the new opportunity for mental exertion would not only keep the mood of my friend in its delicate balance but also provided me with the vague possibility of getting my head free. Finally, the case was brought to a successful conclusion, just in time for us to return to Baker Street for the celebration of New Year’s Eve.

It was late in the morning of January 1st, 1895. Holmes was lounging on the settee, staring absent mindedly into the fire, while I was writing into my journal, a habit that had helped me, especially during the events of the last few years, to bring order into my mind.

“You seem to have a lot to write, Watson”, he said after a while.

That sounded like the invitation for talk, so I laid down my pen. “It’s been quite an eventful year.”

“Indeed…” A slight pensive smile. “And now, we are, once again, at the beginning of a new year. You know, the first of January, that has always been a special day for me. A day to look into the future with all its promises and possibilities together with the hope that, come the next New Year’s Eve, one might be able to say: This has been a good year!”

I left my place at the desk to join my friend by the fire. “That’s a nice thought, Holmes!” But it was more than just that. It was also the fact that it was for the first time he had told me about his personal views on this day. For a man like him, I knew this meant a lot of opening up, and I felt touched. Furthermore, I believed that he was right. For quite some time – a sad time – I had been living in the past, not much more than coping with the present and hardly paying any attention to the possibilities of the future. Holmes return into my life had changed that, I suddenly understood… “In that case we should try and make the best of what lies ahead of us.”

“Exactly!” With that he rose and stretched his body luxuriously, before he went over to the breakfast table and poured the remains of the coffee into two cups, offering me one and raising his own in some kind of odd salute. “That is precisely what I intend to do.”

While I still felt kind of occupied with the afterglow that the sight of his body thus presented to my eyes had caused in me I could not help but remark: “This New Year’s Day really seems to have its effect on you, my friend. You seem quite determined, almost like you were on a case.”

He granted me another smile. “Who tells you I am not?”

“What – again, so soon?”

“Well, this one might be of a rather unusual nature, I have to admit that.”

“Unusual? If even Sherlock Holmes decides to call a case unusual, the circumstances must really be if a special kind.”

“Special…” He chuckled softly. “Yes, indeed.”

“So, pray tell me about it!”

“Oh, I will, my friend, I will. But not yet, if you please... I have set my heart on some little melody that has been wandering through my mind for a few days now, so if you don’t mind…?” He indicated his violin.

“Not at all, go ahead!” Now I was the one to head for a comfortable rest on the settee. “I will lie down right here and get into the appropriate mood for tonight.”

“Hm?” For a brief moment, his face showed nothing but confusion.

“The concert?” I reminded him.

“Ah! Yes, of course! So let me see if I can contribute to tonight’s pleasure.”

At this I nearly choked. “By all means, Holmes”, I finally managed to say. “But…”, I added, more or less clinging to an old habit in order to pull myself together. “Just to avoid misunderstandings, you are talking about an actual melody? Not some aimless scraping?”

“Aimless scraping!” He repeated in clear mock annoyance. “Really, Watson, you must have someone else on your mind, and I should be very interested as to his identity.”

“Someone else on my mind, other than you?” I retorted in the same mocking way. “Why, that is next to impossible!”  
   
"Oh, I am so glad to hear that!" And with that he took the Strad and bow and began to play.

It maybe was the most beautiful piece of music I had ever heard from him, and my current turmoil of feelings made me even more receptive for its sweetness. As Holmes uses to play with his eyes closed I started with watching the movements of his wonderful fingers, admiring his posture while holding the violin and the far away smiling expression on his face, revealing a side of the great mastermind nobody else would give him any credit to possess. But music possesses its own powers, and so I finally closed my eyes as well and allowed my imagination to get carried away…

  
~~~

  
When the evening came, we found ourselves getting ready for the concert. Holmes was standing in front of his full-length mirror, rearranging his bow tie and humming the melody which had already been charming me in the morning. Knowing him, I could see that he was in an excellent mood, apart from the fact that he did not seem to get the bow tie into the right form and was still fumbling with it.

“Come, old man, let me lend you a hand!” I approached him and reached for his collar, just when he was about to let his own hands sink and they brushed against mine. I held my breath when a tingling sensation moved down my spine, and I suddenly realised I was standing much too close. Good Lord, I just had to get a grip of myself again!

He looked at me with an unfathomable expression on his face, while I was somehow managing to cope with his tie. “Ah, thank you!” He smiled approvingly and then, before I could even react, he took both of my hands in his and scrutinised them thoroughly, just like I have seen him doing with some of our clients. What I did not know was if those clients had ever experienced the same variety of emotions as I was doing now, when his thumb lightly stroke mine. “The steady hands of a surgeon, indeed”, he finally said.

Steady? No, I did not feel steady in the least.

“Watson – you know, you would do me an immense favour if you proceeded regular breathing…”

I looked up in surprise. That had sounded… knowingly! As if he knew exactly what he was doing to me right now! But that was impossible. No, it simply could not be… If he would only let go of my hands!

“Now, are you ready, my friend?”

“Hm? Oh”, I hastily tried to get my feet back on the ground. “You mean it is time for the cab already?” I gladly seized the opportunity to withdraw and have a look at my watch. Still a few minutes’ time, but never mind! “Excellent, let me just get my wallet, and I will be ready to go!” I already had the wallet safely tucked in my pocket, but how was he to know?

“It’s already there, Watson!”

“What?”

“Your wallet! You already have it with you!” He pointed to where the edge of the leather was indeed visible for the accurate observer, and he was barely hiding his amusement.

“Oh! You’re right. Must be a little distraught tonight.”

“So I see… and let me recommend you to beware of pickpockets, if you prefer to carry your things around like that. But anyway, I think it is time for us.” He lightly patted my shoulder and thus directed me out of his room.

The inside of a hired cab is not necessarily a spacious area, but this time we were really sitting closely next to each other. Theoretically I could have silently enjoyed the little intimacy, but I felt so strangely disconcerted that evening that during the first minutes of the drive I was more akin to panic regarding the question how to behave or what to say.

But Holmes did not say much during the drive, instead he was humming again, and his tune merged with the rattling of the cab and the drumming of raindrops on the street to an odd but calming concerto. So, when we finally arrived, I had at least regained some resemblance of composure.

We took our seats in one of the boxes, and I once more felt the excitement of being together with him in the public, not investigating a case, not on the hunt, but simply enjoying ourselves. Holmes entertained both of us by commenting in sotto voce on the more outré and rather funny deductions he was able to make by observing the audience. In fact, he behaved nothing less than charming and accordingly I was... charmed. One could have called it a guilty pleasure, but a pleasure it was, nevertheless.

With the third stroke of the gong, the lights started to go down slowly. Holmes had been perusing his concert leaflet while I had been perusing his face, contemplating how deeply, madly and hopelessly in love I was... When now the lights were dimmed he looked up from his reading and in my direction – and our eyes met. This time, I did not look away. I just could not.

At first he looked simply surprised and opened his mouth to say something. But then he remained silent, and even the amused expression vanished slowly from his face. He slightly tilted his head, but his gaze never left my face, while the semidarkness enveloped us. We sat there, spellbound, amazed, suddenly understanding… It is something I am still at a loss to explain, but in that moment I simply began to realise that my friend’s feelings for me did indeed go much deeper than I had ever dared to even hope! And it was no question - he had of cause already seen my own feelings written all over my face. Protected by the diminishing view he took my hand, and in an unspoken agreement we let our joined hands sink down between us, out of sight, while our fingers entwined.

This proved to be the longest concert we had ever attended, and I must admit, this time the music was completely wasted on us...

  
~~~

  
I never would have imagined that the simple touch of two hands could be such a sensual experience – until this evening when, for the time being, nothing beyond this was possible. Our fingers were stroking, squeezing, caressing each other, communicating so much that up to this point was still unspoken. We only parted when it was necessary to join in the applause, and we never lost physical contact for more than a few seconds.

I remember nothing of the music, only his touch, his smile and the waves of utter joy washing over me, while my mind still was trying to embrace what was happening - that this was for real!

Somehow, we managed to make it through the whole performance and then just hurried to get back our hats and overcoats and to arrange for the transport home. For privacy reasons we would have preferred a closed carriage, naturally, but the only thing available offhand was a hansom cab, where it was better to take no chances with occasional observers.

My friend had one hand at the small of my back and only removed it to grasp my hand again, as soon as we were seated. “John…” he said, and the cab took off. Never before had he called me by my given name, never before had I seen such a soft expression on his face and never before had I heard this tone of affection in his voice…

It was a nearly endless drive back to Baker Street, but finally we arrived. We hastily paid the cabby and got out. I felt my heart pounding with expectation, and I am almost ready to swear that when Holmes took the key and opened the door, his fingers were trembling.

Just a few more steps, just a few more moments! A turn of the key, opening the door, passing the threshold, finally inside, closing the door, turning towards each other, an almost whispered “John, I…” –

Then, the sound of another door and lights going on. “Mr. Holmes? Dr. Watson?”

Instantly, everything about my friend seemed to transform back to normal, he assumed his habitual posture, his face straightened. “Good evening, Mrs. Hudson!” His voice sounded friendly-detached.

“Oh! I thought you gentlemen would be staying out for a late supper?”

“Just a spontaneous change of plans – in fact, we’re a little tired.”

“Would you like me to prepare a few sandwiches for you?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Hudson. I think, all we want to do is retire, eh, Watson?”

I did my best to act like stifling a yawn. “Indeed.”

“Very well, then have a good night.”

“And the same to you!”

We were already halfway up the stairs when she added: “Oh, and by the way, how was the concert?”

Out of her sight, my friend grinned. “I can safely say I have never attended a better one! Good night!”

“Good night, Mrs. Hudson”, I echoed.

“’Night, gentlemen!”

“Come, Watson, let me take your coat... I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“Oh, definitely. Night, Holmes!”

“Night, old fellow!”

And while proceeding slowly upstairs, I first heard the door to Mrs. Hudson’s rooms being closed, then the one to the sitting room as well. I entered my own, and I assume it must have been a bit cold in there – though I did not feel it. What I still could feel was the brush of Holmes’ lips on my ear while taking off my coat, whispering “I will join you later…”.

It was only then that I noticed my knees getting weak, and after turning on some light I had to sit down on the bed, slowly inhaling, exhaling…

Watson – you know, you would do me an immense favour if you proceeded regular breathing…

My friend’s words of earlier this evening suddenly came back to my mind, and I smiled. I had the certain feeling that we had now returned as two somewhat different people… I felt that my world was about to change once again, but oh, how I welcomed that particular change, unbelievable and miraculous as it was!

I stood up again, taking off my jacket and tie, my cuff links, opening my collar. Then I heard the slight knock at my door, and I opened - and there he was. Under his open dressing gown I could see he was still wearing his trousers and shirt, but I noticed that only out of some kind of habit, while I was taking him by the hand and pulling him closer, inside, locking the door behind him.

The next thing I knew was his arm around my waist and one of his hands cupping my face. His grey eyes searched mine with an expression that alone was sufficient to make my knees get weak again. Time stretched into eternity and the world outside disappeared into oblivion, when we got lost into each other’s eyes.

“Do you want to talk about this?” I finally asked.

“Yes, I do”, he said. “There is a lot to talk about. But not right now.”

And then he kissed me.

His lips on mine… regardless how often I had thought about this, wished for this, dreamt about this… all of that could never have matched the blissful reality. The feeling of his tongue caressing mine, to hear him softly groaning like this, our aroused bodies pressed against each other… it was intoxicating, entrancing.

Finally, my back was against the door, and he slipped one of his knees between mine, thus slightly parting my thighs. His lips wandered from my mouth to my ear, and his hands from my chest to my nether regions, making me gasp in response, making my body feel like wax, ready to melt.

In spite of still being fully dressed I was nearly already there, so I pushed myself away from the door and gently manoeuvred him towards the bed, where I laid him down and started to get him out of his clothes, kissing and licking every inch of skin within my reach. I started with his throat, working my way slowly downwards until I reached his waistband. Here I paused and lifted my head to look at him.

“Oh, yes. Please…”, he whispered, already breathing heavily. So I opened his flies and divested him from his trousers; I could hardly wait to see him, feel and taste him. When I took his erection into my mouth I heard him gasping my name, and I began to caress his hard flesh with my lips and tongue.

He had begun to move his hips, groaning with need and desire. As I did not want it to end too early, I decided to slow down and shifted my position to kiss his lips again. But suddenly, with a swift and unexpected motion, he rolled over me, and I found myself on my back.

“Your turn, my dearest”, he mumbled with a lustful grin and quickly opened the buttons of my waistcoat and shirt, pulled off my trousers and did not stop till he had me lying there, completely nude. His intense gaze was exciting like a physical touch, and I could see unveiled admiration on his face when he began to explore my body with eyes, hands and mouth, soon finding out about my most sensitive spots and stimulating me in a way that made me begging him not to stop, to go on… which was exactly what he did, and we both went on, passionately, hungrily, ever more, until the ecstasy reached its peak and we both found fulfillment in each other’s arms…

Never before had I experienced such complete satisfaction, not only of the body but also of mind and heart. It was all I could do to pull the blanket over us to keep us warm, to wrap myself around him again and listen to the sound of his heartbeat, while we were slowly drifting into contented sleep.

  
~~~

  
I woke up somewhere in the middle of the night. The room was dark as the curtains were drawn and I had been prudent enough to turn out the lights in time. So my sight was limited but my other senses were highly gratified because each one told me that I was not alone in this bed! There was a very special scent in the air, a scent that I associated with my loved one alone and as one side of my face was resting on his chest, I could hear him breathing as well as feel his warm, soft skin at my cheek.

I could not help but sending a silent prayer of thanks to that incredibly benevolent force up above that had granted me my dearest wish and, I trusted, did not condemn me for my sincere feelings of love.

I was in that rare state of contentment where I, if only for moments, did not have any further wishes or worries, did not want to be anywhere else, did not want to do anything else. My body, heart and mind had finally united again, and I was at home, in the best sense of the word…

Suddenly I felt Holmes stirring slightly and then, gently, shifting to embrace me. “Are you all right, my dear?”

“I am fine… even better than that. Still a bit astonished perhaps, but otherwise… feeling wonderful.”

“Yes…” He pulled me a bit closer, sighing happily. “I know exactly what you mean…”

“I am just… so very amazed. I would never have thought that you… of all people…”

“…could give in to softer passions?”, he completed my sentence. I suddenly felt him moving away from me, but it turned out he had just wanted to get some light. In the soft shine of an oil lamp he settled himself on the bed again and traced the features of my face with his fine sensitive fingers.

“You know what I think. About emotions getting in the way. I am accustomed to disregard the urges of my body, and that is what I decided to do for the sake of preserving your friendship… and your respect. I value your friendship more than anything and I decided that I could be content with that. How could I impose on you with my inverted nature, on you, whom I knew to be a ladies’ man? So I had been forced to hide this aspect of myself from you, my friend. My physical longing for you I could suppress. And I kept telling myself that the longings of my heart would find their satisfaction in our friendship.” With that he leaned in for a kiss, sensual, slow, without the previous urgency but instead savouring the tender intimacy we had only been dreaming of before.

“Of course”, he mumbled. “When I… had noticed that… that look in… your… eyes…” He accentuated his words with kissing both of my eyes in turn.

“A look? What look do you mean?”

“Oh… merely some kind of flicker, actually. I had started to notice it this summer…” His voice sounded a bit muffled, as he was just about to let his lips wander across my throat. Suddenly he interrupted his ministrations, chuckling quietly. “You may believe me, at that point I was almost ready to assume that you were right with your admonitions of getting more sleep, eating more regularly, working less… For the first time I did not trust what my own eyes were telling me. I thought I might finally be a bit overwrought. So I started collecting more data, my friend, observing your subtle reactions. But my impression did not vanish, it grew only stronger. Still, it seemed so very unlikely that you… you… could somehow…-“

I would have never dared to introduce the subject in a more sober state of mind, but right there and then I added: “…that I could be in love with you?”

His eyes widened with an almost shock-like expression and for the duration of two or three heartbeats I feared I had said too much. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. “Yes”, he whispered. “Yes.”

I gently framed his face with my hands. Never before had I seen him like that, opening up to me, abandoning the defenses that guarded his feelings. So utterly vulnerable.

“I wouldn’t consider that so very unlikely, my dearest Holmes. Though… that is to say, if you would like to indulge in further investigations in order to test my more or less subtle… uh… reactions… you are very welcome!”

“Oh. Now, that is good to know, because I daresay you are becoming quite indispensable for my investigations. And it just so happens that there are some points about… well, this particular case… which need further clarification.”

He kissed me again, deeply, fervently, and I pulled him closer. My body was already responding eagerly, aroused not only be the physical but also by the emotional intimacy.

“This is going to be…” he said – and his words trailed off into a moan when I began to massage his buttocks. “…a rather… rather complex matter, you know. I hope you don’t have any pressing plans for the nearer future.”

“I admit to finding this particular expression not only suggestive but very inspiring, Holmes.” Illustrating my intention I moved the middle finger of my right hand just the slightest bit further, which gained me a most appreciative gasp from my partner. “So, while I can not deny I’d like to pursue the one or other pressing plan in the very near future…” (another approaching movement) “…I am completely at your disposal. For the sake of the case, of course.”

“Excellent, my love… excellent…”

Yes, of course I noticed his use of the very word. I noticed it, and I knew he was already far gone in his passion, but not so far as to not being conscious of his choice of words. No, I had certainly not expected to hear it from him, and as his gaze was fixed on me, I knew he saw the rapturous surprise on my face.

I did hardly know what to say, but we both had reached the point where (for the time being) words were not necessarily expected. We returned to kissing again, my hand still between his buttocks, his hot mouth all over my body, his hand stroking my hard member. I felt him trembling with need, heard him groaning against my skin.

Meanwhile I was breathing heavily, waves of erotic sensation running down my spine. “Tell me”, I whispered hoarsely, changing positions so I could look into his eyes. “Tell me what you want. What you want me to do…”

“I want to feel you close… inside me… around me.” His voice had lost much of his usual calm and precise diction. “I want to join with you. I want you to join with me. Please, John!” I felt he was almost beyond self control, just like me.

My free hand was already reaching for my medicine bag, which I had deposited beside the nightstand and which contained various flasks of oils and other lubricants. I hastily selected one and opened the little bottle, spilled its content over our fingers and put it to use. I was longing to watch his face, so I took a pillow to lift him into a different angle, and he parted his legs and wrapped them around my hips…

As I have already stated at the beginning, I am not without experience in matters of sexual encounters with either female or male partners. But this, this was so much more! This was not merely sex; this was making love – beyond expectations, even beyond my fantasies. The climax was overwhelming… a vague recollection of calling out his name… we held onto each other as if to a life line… unwilling to let go even for quite some time beyond the return to earth…

In the afterglow of our union, while our heartbeat and our breathing slowly were returning to normal, a variety of images and memories was floating through my mind… our very first meeting at the laboratory, the enthusiasm on his face at the success of his hemoglobin experiment… the voice of the chap Stamford, talking about Holmes… “You don't know Sherlock Holmes yet… perhaps you would not care for him as a constant companion... a little queer in his ideas… decent fellow enough… have no idea what he intends to go in for... not a man that it is easy to draw out… communicative enough when the fancy seizes him… You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him… not easy to express the inexpressible… a little too scientific for my tastes… approaches to cold-bloodedness…”

…My dear friend himself on the occasion of discussing room sharing, asking me about what I had to confess, adding it would be “just as well for two fellows to know the worst of one another before they begin to live together"…

…Holmes playing his violin… explaining a chain of deductions… referring to me the first time as friend and colleague… introducing me to his brother… taking my arm… meditating in his chair… an elderly book seller transforming into Sherlock Holmes, whom I had believed to be dead… the look in his eyes at tonight’s concert…

…the first touch of his lips… the recollection of that special moment then merging with reality, when he kissed me good-night and I turned out the lights once more. The morning was soon to come…

~~~  
 _  
(The End?… no, not really… rather a beginning…)_


End file.
